Memories of Old Thailand

Words and photos by Mr Tom

June 1977 : It was about 11 :00pm local time in Bankok. The Pan Am jet landed at Don Muang, the only interna- tional airport in Thailand. It was my first time in  a strange exotic Asian country.  The Gods  had blessed  me. A chance encounter with an acquaintance had  brought me an offer I could not refuse. I was a most fortunate 26 year-old young mand being paid to travel to Bangkok to buy gold jewelry for a wealthy investor. Gold was then selling for about $280/oz. The gold jewelry sold in Thailand   was   nearly   pure   24   Karat.   I   was carrying

$50,000.00 in travelers checks and reservations had been made for me at the Oriental Hotel on the Chao Praya River in the heart of Bangkok. I got my suitcase and went through Thai Immigration  and  Customs.  Outside,  the taxi driver from the Oriental Hotel held the board  with my name on it. As we drove through the streets of Bankok I soon noticed that there were virtually no peo- ple on the streets. The driver told me that the curfew was 11 :00pm until 6 :00am. I found out that I had arrived in Thailand   during   a  time   of  martial   law  due  to  the on

–going Thai political strife that had resulted in yet another coup attempt. The strange empty streets seemed like an Oriental Twilight Zone.

I arrived at the hotel after midnight and was greeted by the smiling reception staff who welcomed me to the Oriental Hotel and treated me like royalty.  I was staying at the finest hotel in Bangkok and much closer to the Ganja trail than I realized. My room in the old « Writer’s Wing » of the Oriental had a small outside deck over- looking the pool and the river. When I stepped out on the deck in the dawn morning to enjoy the view and have a puff of the small personal stash of Hawaiian buds I had brought with me, I was blown away to find  two beauti- ful nearly 5 foot high Thai Sativa plants growing right there in my planter box. I knew this was a blessing from the Ganja Goddess of Thailand to be given this room. A couple nights later, I hopped into a back seat of the next waiting Oriental Hotel taxi. I told the young Thai driver where I was going and we exchanged names. He told me

« My name  is Mr.  Dang,  but you can call  me Danny  ».

He handed me a business card with « Danny P.K. » writ- ten on it. The next thing he said was, « Mr. Tom, would you like to smoke Ganja before you have your dinner ? »

. I acted like I didn’t know what Ganja was but was will- ing to try it ! Twenty minutes later, I was in a Thai shan- ty slum, smoking Thai Ganja in a bong with a room  full

View of Chao Praya River from the Oriental Hotel View of the Oriental Hotel swimming pool

“The Chalice”, Danny P.K.’s Turkish water-pipe

of Thais, the Ganja Goddess of Thailand was smiling on me again !

The gold jewelry business brought me back to Thailand many times. Years later I developed a

Hemp clothing business using the hand-woven Hemp material made by the Hmong Hilltribe people that I met on one of many Ganja adventures  that  Danny  P.K.  and his friend, Mr. Mud took me on throughout Thailand. In October, 1977 on my second trip to Thailand, we drove north to Chiang Mai, Chiang  Rai  and  the  Golden Triangle. After a long seven hour drive from Bankok, we arrived in sleepy Chiang Mai, still a small town  of low-  rise buildings. We checked into a hotel on the Ping River and walked to the Chiang Mai Night Market after we smoked some Ganja in Danny P.K.’s smal, brass, old Turkish water-pipe. Danny P.K. and Mr. Mud were Thai Moslems in a predominately Buddhist country. Thus they shared a strong brotherhood with other Thai Moslems throughout Thailand. It was not hard for them to connect with a nice bag of Thai Sativa Ganja before the evening was over.

We drove North from Chang  Mai  to  the  notorious Golden Triangle, the area where Burma, Thailand and Laos come together at their mutual border formed by the mighty Mekong River. This mysterious area had  long  been famous as a source of Opium which was the most profitable crop for many of the Hilltribe villages. Being a young man, open to experimentation and experience, I

wanted to smoke some Opium. We drove to  the  Thai border town of Mae Sai where Danny P.K. and Mr. Mud inquired in the local market and soon we had directions to a village out of town in the moun- tains that was the source of Opium. Little did I real- ize the potential danger of the situation. We drove some miles back towards Chiang Rai,  then  turned off a dirt road up into the mountains that form the border between Thailand and Burma. After a few miles we left the car and started walking. Soon we were met by two of the Hilltribe villagers on the road. Danny P.K. told them of our mission and they led us into the village.

First it was necessary to get permission to be there from the village Headman. The Headman ques- tioned me repeatedly, asking if I was C.I.A. or C.I.D.. After assuring him that I was not a govern- ment agent, just a foreign tourist who wanted to smoke Opium, we were led to a small shack in the village where an Opium addict lived. For a small amount of money a chunk of black Opium was pro- duced. The bamboo pipe was lit and I began my Opium smoking experience whcich turned into a nightmare dream that lasted over 3 days. After a dozen or so hits, I started to spin and felt an urgent need for fresh air. I hit the ground and had to be car- ried back down the mountain to the cr. The next couple days were spent dreaming and vomiting- not a pleasant experience. Although I could say that I

had done it, it was certainly not an experience I wanted to repeat. However, after smoking Opium I realized that Cannabis was truly my healing medi- cine. Smoking Ganja made me feel good, feel happy, feel closer to God and have a greater appreciation for the enjoyments of life, especially food and sex !